


Sweet Dreams

by Sleepless_Girl



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Green Lantern - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Heavy Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 09:41:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20813027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepless_Girl/pseuds/Sleepless_Girl
Summary: Hal Jordan, Green Lantern of Space Sector 2814, screamed.In Coast City, the sunset.





	Sweet Dreams

Red, red, red. 

Hal was drowning in it. Tasting the metallic liquid as this one overtook his tongue. Not only could he taste it, but he also _saw_ it. Crimson waves which flowed out so easily. With such tranquility that you could stare at them with a wondering face and lose yourself in the vivid color. 

Yet calmness was the furthest word Hal felt. Far from it really. 

So much. _Too much._ He pressed his gloved hands against the wound, seeing as the crimson waves also swallowed these whole. And - and yellow was quickly starting to become his second least favorite color. His hands were shaking. Fuck. He needed them to stop. He needed everything to stop. Please, just… stop. For the love of Christ -

“STOP!”

Breathing. He was breathing. That was a good sign, right? Right. 

Hal’s chest continued to rise and fall in such quick and deep paces that one would think he had just discovered the sweetness of oxygen. Briskly he tore the sheets off his body, feeling the cool air of his fan hit his gleaming skin. Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, he let his toes feel the cold oak floor. And slowly, sluggishly, he got back to his senses. Feeling the drowsiness along with a bone-deep tiredness overtaking his already burden-filled shoulders. As if feeling said weight, his shoulders slumped along with his lips. Passing a hand down his face he blinked, before turning his head towards the nightstand next to him. 

7:27 P.M. 

The numbers blinked at him innocently. Letting their blue hue reflect off the wood. His vision leaves the accusing numbers and instead follows the soft pigments that painted his bedroom. 

Tall buildings block the sun, yet it doesn’t stop the stubborn sunrays from infiltrating around the giant structures into his bedroom. Squinting, he somewhat leans backwards towards the darker edges of his bedroom before dropping on his mattress. His bed creaks in protest while sheets puff up, before also falling for gravity. Hal wonders if he’s gained a few more pounds over the past couple weeks. After all, eating only take-out was sure to mess his stomach up.

Somewhere in the country, he knows his health teacher is cringing. Still, Mr. Faul never seemed to take his own advice. Just like the P.E. teachers. A fact Hal and his buddies would angrily rant to each other about. 

So, in that case, why should Hal?

“Wow, what a shitty argument, Jordan,” he scolded himself. 

Hal lets his right fist clench; feeling as cool metal between his pointer and ring finger warmed for a second before he let his hand loosen. 

“Ring, please send the following message to Barry Allen,” a slight pause. “I’m sorry, Bar. Just not feeling it today… again. I’ll - I’ll try again tomorrow, okay? Promise.”

He felt the ring dim up momentarily, “Message being delivered to Barry Allen. Message delivered.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem, Green Lantern.” 

His ring shut off. 

He stared into his blank ceiling. Lines were surely starting to mark his face. Ones which would either run across his forehead or from his nose to his jaw. Sighing, Hal closed his eyes. Letting the shades of yellow, orange, red, and hints of pink wash over his sickly white bedroom. Below him he could hear the washing machine of his neighbor. It was a rather out-dated model which always pissed him off by the tumbling and whirling sounds it would make. But now… Hal didn’t care at all. Couldn’t find the strength to move his tongue in a grunt.

Even further below him and the washing machine were streets. Filled with traffic which held cars that rumbled, and people who laughed and worried. Worried about small stuff that held little importance in the big scheme of things. 

He envied them. The people all around him. Envied how they laughed so freely. Envied how small their problems were. How insignificant they seemed compared to what he had to -

And there he goes again. Being completely and utterly arrogant. 

He laughs with a strain in his tone. 

If _he_ were here, he would have told him that exactly. Explained to him the complexities and complicated nature of every life or some hippie shit. For being someone who punched criminals in the face nightly, he sure was a pacifist. Or maybe pacifist wasn’t the right word. 

Hal would have probably voiced this all out, causing the other to tell him that yes, there is a word for that. He always did know which words Hal wanted to say but only managed to explain with descriptions filled with um’s and curse words. 

A raised eyebrow and a teasing tone would accompany said guess. Which really never were guesses. They were just disguised that way to not make the other party feel stupid. Too bad they never worked. In fact, for Hal - and other really - it always came out more snobbish than anything. 

It was only after tumbles into bed and pillow talks that he would discover that the action held no bad intentions behind it. For the most part anyway.

The Californian could almost see the perfectly raised eyebrow. Dark and bold against fair skin. Diagonal in fashion; drawing attention to the blue eyes that they pointed to. 

Blue. 

Such a contrast with red. 

And - a shadow. Opening his eyes Hal realized that the tints of colors weren’t reaching him, instead a black shadow stood in their place. Or rather, blocked their place. Sitting up with a speed that would surprise even Barry, he come face to face with - 

“Holy fuck.”

Bruce. 

Standing. Right in front of him. Breathing and blinking and, and… 

His hands are shaking again. Can feel the way fingers twitch before gripping at nothing in particular. Hal was never one to be quiet. Never afraid to speak his mind when the moment called for it, or didn’t. Still, here he sat. Rooted to his spot like a - like a fucking stool. Or something. 

Around Bruce’s silhouette was a thin line of sunlight and green. He almost seemed angelic. _Almost._ Except that the batsuit contrasted against domestic soft tints around them. Which looked out of place not only in his apartment, but with Bruce’s naked face. Or maybe he just doesn’t remember how it used to look anymore clashed together. A thought that makes his heart ache.

Still, he - Bruce - makes Hal gape. 

A faint smirk from the other man. Full of teasing and amusement. 

Snapping his jaw shut he breaks into a hysteria of laughter. Doubling over, almost hitting his forehead with his knees. Tears soon form in the corners of his eyes, some escaping his lashes. Looking up, he catches concerned eyes. 

“Sorry, sorry. I just… wow,” his shaky left hand passes through thin hair, “Are you - are you okay?”

The raven-haired man tilts his head in a brief nod. Then, drawing his lips in a downwards line, he furrowed his eyebrows while staring at Hal. 

Shaking his head Hal just grins, “No. I was just asking, don’t worry about it.”

At this, the other man just puts on a brief look. Telling him he was just dropping the subject for the moment, before he started analyzing around Hal’s apartment. Not letting any crack go unnoticed by his eyes. And, while past Hal would have rolled his eyes, present him just leans back on his elbows. Drinking in the image of Bruce. From the coils of muscles under kevlar, to dark locks falling into messy waves. Messy waves which he wants to run his hands in, but stops himself from doing so. Too afraid that if touches Bruce, the man would disappear. 

Soon, sharp eyes find him. Clearly displeased with the state of his apartment at the moment. If the pull of lips was any sign. Which it one hundred percent was. 

“Yeah, I know, I know. My apartment is a mess, don’t give me lecture alright. Alfred has already given me enough to last us both a life - ”

Both eyebrows rose at his abrupt inhale.

“Jesus, give me a break asshole. I haven’t been in the best place - no, no, no. Don’t give me that look it's nothing serious and - Bruce, I’m not kidding.” 

The Green Lantern rose from his elbows and crawled back, pushing himself further away with his feet. Which left a rather hurt Bruce standing beside his bed.

“Don’t - don’t come close to me. It’s - it’s,” the brunette felt a hitch in his voice, “Please just don’t. Just for a while more let me… just a tiny bit more, Bruce. Okay? I promise I’ll go see someone after this.”

A heavy swallow. Blinking his eyes he clenched his jaw, staring away from Bruce down towards his right hand. The green glow there blurry in his vision. Closing his eyes, he lets out a strangled sound. He pulls his legs closer to him. Tangling them along the way with his white sheets. Ones which curled around his calves tightly. Making him struggle around the material. Each futile kick caused more barely covered hiccups to erupt from his chest. 

Such a fucking _abnormal_ sound coming from him. 

Hal Jordan. 

Fearless adrenaline seeking pilot and hero. 

Such _fearful_ sounds. 

It was only when he felt a new weight on the bed did he stop his struggle and look up. A sheen layer of tears decorated slightly puffy eyes, who met those which looked equally defeated. 

A hand was offered between both. Palm up, fingers slightly curling up. Asking to be intertwined with another. Hal stared at the hand, and Bruce, as if reading Hal’s mind, soon had his gauntlets off. Leaving bare hands to be caught by Hal’s own. Letting him feel every callous and ridge in the other’s hand. A sensation that only made Hal squeeze Bruce’s hand even more tightly.

And, as slow and clumsy as a baby deer taking its first steps, they both left the bed. Sweaty palms included. Or at least in Hal’s case anyway. 

So, both males stood there. 

Hal took in every detail of Bruce, ingraining it in his brain. From the bridge of his nose, to the beginning of crow feet at the edge of slightly upturned eyes. Eyes rimmed with a set of long lashes. That with every blink kissed high cheekbones. 

His eyes quickly then went towards Bruce’s lips. Locking on the way the bottom lip was more plump than the top one. A small flaw he would see Bruce stare at whether in mirrors or passing glass panes. One which caused Bruce to stick out his upper lip more, giving him the aspect of a duck. A facial expression that would then horrify said man, causing him to drop the look with wide eyes. Hal remembers laughing at those rare moments. Which would further cause Bruce to startle, but then glare at him. 

A ghost of a grin formed on his trembling lips. 

Cautiously, he brought his hand upwards. Holding his breath in what felt like an eternity before his fingers touched soft lips. Exhaling in the form of shaky chuckle, he traced the faint lines around them. Glad they didn’t dismantle. Before leaving them in exchange of cheeks. Underneath his fingertips, Hal felt the light poking of growing stubble. So subtle one could only _feel_ it. 

The sunrays were still beaming at Bruce’s back. Though Hal noticed they were far more feeble. Starting to be pushed down by starlight. 

Hal knew what that meant. 

Bruce would soon leave him again. 

In that case, the California man took one last look at the Gothamite in advance of carding his fingers through Bruce’s hair. Gradually he went down the slope of his Bruce’s neck, until his fingers stopped. 

Making Bruce bow his head, the brunette felt the slight bumps of bones there. Only did Hal stop the _light_ guidance when his own lips slotted against the other’s. 

A suck of breath came from the Green Lantern along with tears. Tears which fell down his cheeks in silent rivulets. Making Hal taste the sharp sting of salt. Which almost made him gag. Sniffling, Hal pulled away only to lean his forehead onto Bruce’s with closed eyes. 

He felt the leaving warmth of the sunrays.

Only a few more minutes. 

Grinning wryly, Hal moved his hand. Slipped it down from the strong neck to Bruce’s chest. Laying his palm flat against the middle, before sliding it slightly to the left. Close to the bat symbol. Close to where Hal was _supposed_ to feel - 

More tears. 

More gagging. 

More fruitless pleads. 

In front of him, the sunlight started to shrink away from him. Scurrying down his floor up to his window. Making way for the shadows that hide in his closet and monsters under his bed. Opening his eyes, Hal sees once blue pupils. 

Now, only a transparent green. Along with the rest of him. 

The rest of _Bruce._

Hal forces himself to keep gazing, even when this emerald poltergeist fades in his hands. The weight of an arm around his lower back leaves him, along with the person he desperately _loves._

The sound of kneecaps hitting wood floors resonates in his bones. Hal only manages to catch himself on unsteady arms. Staring down, he watches the last wisps of light leave. Right hand spasms in a desperate attempt to bring _him_ back. Only for small fragments of neon to go upwards before collapsing like a house of cards. 

Hal Jordan, Green Lantern of Space Sector 2814, screamed. 

In Coast City, the sunset.

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this fic in the works for a while. Just didn't get my lazy ass to write it until now. So yea. 
> 
> It was inspired by [this](https://winnietheripper.tumblr.com/post/127544891219) drawing, by @winnietheripper on tumblr. 
> 
> Hope y'all liked this. A̶l̶s̶o̶,̶ ̶s̶o̶r̶r̶y̶ ̶a̶l̶l̶ ̶m̶y̶ c̶u̶r̶r̶e̶n̶t̶ ̶w̶o̶r̶k̶s̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶b̶e̶e̶n̶ ̶a̶n̶g̶s̶t̶.̶


End file.
